Flight Plan
by Jensen Jones
Summary: When Paris is late for his shift again, Janeway calls him into her ready room. Expecting a reprimand, Paris finds himself part of a scheme concerning Chakotay and Paris's dangerous simulation 'Flight Plan' on the Holodeck.
1. Chapter 1

"Where's Paris? Is he late for his shift again?" Janeway rolled her eyes. "All right Culhane you're free to go. Chakotay take the helm until Paris gets here. He shouldn't be too long."

"Me, Captain?" Chakotay hesitated.

"Do you see any other Chakotays on the bridge Commander?" she asked glancing around. Harry Kim and Tuvok pretended to be very busy at their consoles.

"All right," Chakotay shrugged and moved himself from his usual seat down to the conn. He shuffled in the seat. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as his first officer chair next to the Captain. You couldn't slouch at all when manning the helm. The chair simply didn't allow it. "Okay," he said to himself, running his hands across the console. "We are currently cruising at warp 7.5." Suddenly the ship lurched and jolted, causing the bridge crew to grab their consoles. "Oops, sorry," Chakotay apologised quickly, chuckling. "Didn't mean to press that button."

Janeway rolled her eyes again. She had not meant for anyone to see her rolling her eyes at her first officer, but Tuvok gave her a stern look. Tuvok always noticed everything. "No harm done, Commander," she frowned. "I just hope Paris gets here soon!"

He did. Even though he was only five minutes late, it felt like the longest five minutes ever because Janeway had to sit and watch Chakotay piloting Voyager. It was almost painful. When Paris finally strolled onto the bridge, casually giving some feeble, vague excuse for his lateness, she was very relieved. "Mr Paris, in my ready room," she told him sternly. "We need to talk!"

"Captain?" Chakotay glanced up at her.

"You have the bridge Commander. I hope this won't take long," she told him as she left.

"Look I'm really sorry, Captain." Tom repeated in the privacy of the Captain's ready room. "Like I said, I got caught up on the holodeck and…"

"Whatever," Janeway brushed off his excuse. "Tom, right now I couldn't care less why you're late."

"It wont happen again, I swear" Tom promised.

Janeway was pacing. "I don't care if it does, as long as I don't have to watch Chakotay piloting my ship like that again!"

"I beg your pardon?" Paris was surprised to realise that her irritation did not seem to be directed at him after all.

"At ease, Tom. The truth is I didn't ask you in here to reprimand you - although it makes a nice ruse," she confessed. "I simply want your opinion."

"On?" Tom prompted cautiously.

"On Chakotay's piloting." She lowered her voice despite the soundproof walls. "Tom, you are our best, most experienced pilot. I need your advice. How would you describe the Commander's piloting skills?"

"Seriously?" Tom was surprised and dismayed. "You want me to tell you what I _really_ think?"

"The truth Tom," she nodded. "It's important."

"Okay." Tom thought quickly. "I'd describe Chakotay's piloting skills as… adequate."

"Adequate?" Janeway's eyebrow rose.

"… for a pizza delivery shuttle." Tom finished.

There was an awkward moment of silence, and then Janeway burst out laughing until tears were running in her eyes and she had to lean against the table.

"I was just joking." Paris assured her uncomfortably. "I didn't mean it. Honest."

"Relax, Tom. I'm inclined to agree with you." She wiped her eyes and took a seat. "The next question is, what is to be done about it? I'm sure Chakotay _used_ to be a better pilot."

"He did," Tom agreed. "Especially in the Marquis days. He was formidable," Tom reminisced, casually taking a seat opposite the Captain. He made himself comfortable, putting his feet up on another chair, and stretching his arms behind his head. He rather enjoyed these occasional conspiratory chats in the Captain's ready room, despite the fact that they usually led to one of Janeway's devious schemes that inevitably put him in some sort of compromising position. "Chakotay's just out of practice I guess," he shrugged. "It happens. After all, practice makes perfect."

"So they say." Janeway mused. "Your own piloting, Mr Paris, comes very close to perfection."

"High praise. Thank you Captain," he glanced at her. Where was she going with this?

"Not at all," she smiled affectionately, almost flirting with him. "Which begs the question, how much do _you_ practice?" she asked in a low voice, leaning towards him in confidence.

"We're still talking about flying, right?" Tom asked.

The Captain nodded.

"Just checking." She was after information. There was always something she wanted to know, and Tom could never lie to her when she fixed him with that gaze. "The truth Captain?"

"The truth," she insisted.

"Okay. The truth." He took a deep breath. "Aside from my natural talent, and the hours I spend at the helm, I guess the reason I'm a brilliant pilot is that…"

"Yes?"

"…I run a lot of piloting simulations on the holodeck," he admitted. "I always have, whenever I get the chance."

"I thought so," Janeway smiled smugly. "That's what you were doing just now?"

Paris was embarrassed that she'd figured out his secret so easily. "It's pretty dull on the bridge today," he explained. "I have to get my fix somehow."

"Your fix?" she asked in interest.

"That's right, Captain. I'm Thomas Eugene Paris and I'm addicted to flying," he grinned ruefully.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Tom," Janeway assured him. "I just wish Chakotay had a more addictive personality. I doubt he's ever been addicted to anything, certainly not flying!" she said sighing in frustration. "But seriously Tom, I'm intrigued that you run simulations. Last time I checked, the standard Starfleet flight simulations were horribly dull. Surely a brilliant pilot like yourself needs a bit more of a challenge to 'get your fix' as you put it! So tell me Tom: what programs do you run exactly?" She waited for his response.

Paris took his feet off the chair and placed his hands on the table warily. "Captain, you want all my secrets," he accused.

"Not at all," she assured him innocently. "I'll be satisfied with just this one. For now."

"Okay," he hesitated. "I'll tell you - as long as I don't get in any trouble for it."

"Let's find out," she demanded, her voice turning cold all of a sudden.

Paris took a deep breath and explained. "The truth is, I _do_ use the official Starfleet simulations, _but_ I've made some… ah… modifications."

"Really? Such as?"

"I've changed the location to the delta quadrant. I've made the whole thing a lot more realistic and a lot more challenging. I've taken some of the safety protocols offline so that it feels more authentic. I've done quite a lot of modifications over the years," Tom admitted. "When I get bored, I think of something new to modify. That's what I was doing this morning, Captain. The latest modifications are ready to run," his eyes lit up. "It's gonna be a hell of a ride!"

She still said nothing and he couldn't read her expression.

"Look Captain, I know it's against protocol to modify those Starfleet simulations, but there you have it. You wanted to know my secret. That's it."

She paused. "It certainly is a breach in protocols Tom," she admitted. "You've told me all I need to hear." she grinned an evil grin. "You've given yourself away."

"Boy, you sure know how to play me Captain," Paris winced. "I can't believe I just told you. All I ask is that you let me run this latest simulation before you throw me in the brig."

"Tom!" Janeway was amazed he would think that, "I don't want to throw you in the brig. I _want_ you to run your simulation!"

"You do?" Paris was surprised and confused.

"For Chakotay," Janeway explained.

"So he can throw me in the brig instead?"

"I certainly hope not!" Janeway exclaimed. "He can't very well practice his piloting in your simulations if he bans them! We _did_ both agree that the Commander needs practice, right?"

"True," Paris admitted.

"He needs to be told," Janeway decided with a firm nod. "We have too many damaged shuttles as it is."

"Good luck," Paris told her. He was guessing Chakotay would be less than pleased at his Captain ordering his to brush up his piloting skills on the holodeck. Paris had seem the Commander when he was angry and was in no rush to see it again.

"Oh, I'm not the one who will be making the suggestion. That's _your_ job Tom."

"What?" Tom paled.

"Be casual about it. Wait for the right moment. Pose it as a challenge. That'll get him in. Chakotay won't ban your simulations, Tom. He's Marquis after all. And who knows, maybe he'll find a new passion, or at least a hobby. He could certainly use one." She stood up and walked over to squeeze the lieutenant's shoulder. "I'm leaving this up to you. I trust you'll do what needs to be done. Good luck Tom."

"I think I'm gonna need it." Paris said to himself.

"One more thing." Janeway turned back. "As a Starfleet Captain, I cannot endorse your modified simulations, so this conversation never happened, are we clear?"

"Yes, Captain."

"And I don't want to see you late for another shift again, no matter what the reason. Is that also clear?"

"Yes, Captain."

Suddenly the ship lurched sideways, pushing Janeway into Tom's arms. "I think we need you at the helm, Tom," she told him, steadying herself quickly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let's go!"

He followed his Captain back to the bridge, and took the helm from Chakotay.


	2. Chapter 2

About a week after Janeway's discussion with Paris in her ready room, she ran into him in the corridor. They were going in the same direction.

"Paris!" She caught up to him.

"Hi Captain," he replied, distractedly.

"Tom, I just wanted to congratulate you!" she told him, patting his shoulder. "Chakotay brought that shuttle in from the away mission entirely unscathed. His flying has greatly improved recently. And not just his flying! Lately the Commander seems much more… well, alive! I don't know what you've been doing with him on that holodeck program of yours Paris, but I like what I'm seeing!"

"Yeah?" Paris turned to her.

"Absolutely," Janeway nodded. "And I want it to continue."

"Forget it, I quit," Paris turned and kept walking.

"What?" she strode after him. "Paris, you can't quit now, I command that you…"

Paris spoke over her. "You can't command me to…" He stopped without finishing the sentence.

"To what?" Janeway inquired.

"Just forget it," he began walking away quickly.

"Tom!" she ran after him. "Please!" She blocked his way, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking into his eyes. "Talk to me. What's happened? I know I put you up to this, Tom. Please, just fill me in. That's all I ask. Maybe I can help."

"I doubt it."

"Please," she gazed into the pilot's blue eyes, even though they seemed to be avoiding hers.

"Okay," Paris relented.

"My quarters," the Captain instructed. "Now."

"Yes, Captain," Paris answered with a sigh.


	3. Chapter 3

"Okay, Tom," Janeway said after the door to her quarters slid shut behind them. "Sit down." She took a seat on her couch, crossing her legs, and motioned for Paris to take a seat opposite her.

Paris shook his head. "No thanks, Captain. I don't feel like getting too comfortable."

"Fine. As you wish," Janeway frowned a little. "So, you asked Chakotay to the holodeck?" she couldn't help grinning at that thought.

"That's right." Paris began reluctantly. "Last week I invited Chakotay to try out my latest simulation of Flight Plan, just like you asked."

"And he accepted?"

"I posed it as a challenge, just as you suggested." Tom grinned remembering that moment. "It worked a treat. He could hardly resist."

The ship had been damaged again and everyone had to help out with repairs. Paris volunteered to help Chakotay in engineering. Chakotay was surprised by the offer. They hardly ever chose to work together and were not exactly friends. "Really?" he asked Paris. "I thought you'd want to work alongside Harry."

"It's fine," Paris assured him. "Harry's got things all under control. He probably doesn't want me distracting him."

"Fine," Chakotay said, "I guess I'm going to have to put up with you distracting me instead. Let's go."

They went to engineering and got started on the repairs. They had not been working long when Paris spoke. "Oh man, this is really tedious work. I can feel my brain starting to fry inside my skull."

"That's some nice imagery Paris," Chakotay said dryly.

"Well it's true. Don't you feel that way sometimes Chakotay?"

"It doesn't matter how I feel about it. We have to get these repairs done."

"Yeah I know. I'm just thankful that I got in early and booked the holodeck this afternoon – the day could turn out okay after all." He paused. "You got any plans later Chakotay?"

"I really should catch up on some reports."

"Oh man, come on Chakotay! Repair work, and then _reports_? Are you _serious_?"

The Commander said nothing.

"You _are_ serious, Chakotay. You're _always_ so damn _serious_."

"Is that a problem?" Chakotay put down his tools and glared at the pilot.

"Yeah," Paris admitted. "Yeah, I think sometimes it is." He stared unflinching at the Commander.

"Watch it Paris. You're starting to irritate me."

"I noticed." Paris grinned undeterred. "Seriously Commander, it doesn't pay to be serious _all_ of the time. You don't want to get too carried away obeying orders and complying with regulations. Sure that's part of the job but it's not the _fun_ part."

"The fun part?"

"Yeah. I guess I'm lucky because I'm really passionate about what I do." Paris shrugged.

"I'm not seeing you put much passion into these repairs," Chakotay reprimanded, trying to make the pilot get back to work.

"I mean _flying_, Chakotay. I'm passionate about _flying_."

"Good for you, Paris."

"Exactly." The pilot picked up his tools and while concentrating on some more repairs said, in an offhand way, "that's why I'm a much better pilot than you could ever be."

"Excuse me?" Chakotay stopped working and glared at Paris. The statement was probably true, but it still the Commander mad to be told so in that offhand manner Paris had. Infuriatingly, the pilot suddenly appeared deeply absorbed in the repairs.

"Almost done. That should just about fix it. Good as new!" Paris patted the console he had been working on. Then he walked over to where Chakotay was staring in frustration at an open electrical panel. Chakotay tried to ignore the cocky pilot but it was difficult since he was leaning over him, getting in his light.

"What is it you want Paris?" Chakotay straightened up.

"I was thinking I could show you something on the holodeck. Then again, maybe that's a stupid idea. There's no way you'd be interested…"

"Interested in what?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you…"

"Tell me what, Paris?" Chakotay demanded. "Out with it!"

"I have my own piloting simulator – Flight Plan – that I run on the holodeck. I use it to perfect my piloting skills. I'm about to test out my latest modifications. But I guess you wouldn't be interested in something like that. It's a little… challenging. I don't think you'd like it."

"You don't think I'd be interested in a challenge?" the Commander was offended. "Why not?"

"Because it's fun," Paris laughed.

"I like fun." Chakotay frowned defensively, then asked: "Paris are you inviting me to join you, on the holodeck?" He realised he was genuinely surprised.

"If you think you can handle it," the pilot smirked, watching the Commander's expression.

"I'll be there," Chakotay insisted.

"I'm impressed," Janeway grinned, getting up to take a drink from the replicator. She offered Paris a drink but he shook his head. Janeway took a long sip. "Of course, I knew you could do it, Tom. There's something about you that Chakotay can't help reacting to – although not necessarily in a positive way! What happened on the holodeck? Did you run the simulation?"

"I ran one of my older, less challenging simulations." Paris revealed.

"What did Chakotay think?"

"He was impressed." Paris grinned smugly.

"Excellent. Did he fly?"

"We had a shuttle race through the three-star system, him against me," Paris explained pacing the floor.

Janeway laughed. "I hope Chakotay wasn't a sore loser!"

"Of course not." Paris stopped pacing and faced the Captain. "Chakotay won that race."

"What?" Janeway started. "How is that possible?"

Paris looked sheepish. "It was probably a dumb thing to do, Captain." he shuffled nervously on his feet, and took a deep breath. "I kind of… let him win."

Janeway was speechless for a moment. "Tom Paris, you're a braver man than I thought! I certainly hope for your sake he never finds out."

"Oh, he did." Paris drawled, shaking his head.

"How?"

"I guess I kinda gave it away." Paris admitted, thinking back to that afternoon.

"I'm impressed Paris." Chakotay admitted, docking his shuttle after their crazy obstacle-course race through the spectacular holographic star system. It had certainly got his heart rate up. "This program feels very realistic. Did you create this entire program from scratch?"

"Uh… almost," Paris said stepping out of his shuttle in the holographic docking bay. He was trying to avoid telling Chakotay how he had modified Starfleet simulations, since that was strictly against protocols.

Chakotay greeted Paris with a friendly clap on the shoulder. "I'm sorry I beat you in the end Paris," he chuckled. "What happened? You flew too close to that large moon? Got pulled off course by its gravity?"

"Something like that," Paris avoided looking him in the eye. It had been a fun flight, but an easy one that he'd flown many times before. He'd looped into orbit around each of the moons in the system to give Chakotay more time to catch up after losing him in the asteroid belt. Towards the finish, Paris had been gaining on Chakotay but the Commander had managed to pull into the Voyager shuttlebay about 10 seconds ahead of Paris, winning the race.

"It's a beautiful system," Chakotay commented looking out through the docking bay windows at the three suns. "It looks vaguely familiar somehow."

"Oh yeah, I based the system on the Dolor system we visited almost a year ago," Paris explained. He remembered it well. He forgot himself and began telling Chakotay how he had made the program. "I was intrigued by that system so as soon as we left it behind, and things were fairly quiet I started putting this simulation together using data from astrometrics. It took me close to a month, but I think it was worth it. It's a great simulation to get the feel for some asymmetrical orbits." He grinned. "That asteroid belt can be tricky too."

"Wait a second, Paris," Chakotay interrupted. "You mean to say you created this simulation a year ago?"

"Uh… is that what I said?" Paris asked warily.

"Yes. But I thought you wanted to show me your latest simulation. Something new."

"Well," Paris took a moment to reply, "This was still new for you."

"Let me get this straight." Chakotay stepped toward him aggressively. "If you created this simulation a year ago, then you must have flown it many times before, and you expect me to believe that I just beat you, our best pilot, on my first attempt?"

"Uh… I haven't flown this course in a while."

"It still doesn't add up Paris." Chakotay fixed him with a hard stare.

"Okay, so maybe a looped a few moons to let you catch up," Paris admitted. He could feel him cheeks getting hot.

"You let me win?" Chakotay's voice was dangerously low.

"So what if I did? It's no fun if I'm too far ahead! No fun for either of us - right?" the pilot defended his actions.

"Paris, what are you playing at? Why did you invite me here?"

"I beg your pardon?" the pilot feigned innocence, which infuriated the Commander.

"It's a simple question, Paris. Why did you invite me here?" Chakotay demanded, raising his voice.

"To show you…"

"To show me your new simulation, which you _haven't_ shown me!" the Commander closed in on the pilot aggressively.

Paris said nothing, but stepped backward, until he found himself flat against the side of the shuttle.

"Tom," Chakotay leaned in close, "either you invited me here in good faith, or you didn't."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Did Chakotay suspect the Captain's involvement?

"I _know_ you're the better pilot, Paris. I _don't_ need you to flatter me. And I _won't_ have you patronise me!" He smashed his fist into the holographic shuttle door behind Paris's shoulder, near his head. "Is that clear?"

"Yeah," Paris winced at the force of Chakotay's fist so near his head. He was unsure what to do next.  
"Don't play games with me Paris," the Commander warned, holding up the index finger of his clenched fist. "You want to show me something? Show me what I came here to see. Fair and square. I want a rematch – in your latest simulation."

"Okay," Tom nodded nervously, noticing the small trickle of blood on Chakotay's hand – proof that his minimised safety protocols were in action, "Whatever you say Commander."


	4. Chapter 4

Janeway was laughing out loud as he recounted the story to her. "I wish I could have been there!" she cried, stretching herself out on the couch. "Tell me what happened next, Tom, and for God's sake sit down! Are you sure you don't want a drink?"

Paris reluctantly sat down on the couch.

"That's better," Janeway nodded. "Go on."

"Computer, open Paris Program Flight Plan 48," Paris announced. Their surroundings flashed a brilliant white for a moment, and suddenly he and Commander Chakotay where looking out onto an entirely different star-scape.

"The Anari Nebula!" Chakotay recognised the scene with awe. "We investigated that area of space last month! I was on the away mission. I remember I almost crashed a shuttle in those plasma storms." He pointed at the swirling masses.

"Um… Chakotay, before we race perhaps I should give you a few tips," Paris suggested nervously. He didn't want the Commander finding out about the modified safety protocols the hard way, but he couldn't tell him straight out either. He knew the Commander would never participate if he knew. "I'll just give you some advice on the best evasive manoeuvres to use."

"Why?" Chakotay turned on him. Did Paris think he was that bad a pilot?

"I don't want to have to go in and rescue you from those plasma storms, or that iron meteor shower!" Paris pretended to joke.

Chakotay was not amused. "Fair and square, remember? Besides, it's just a game, Paris. A wonderfully realistic one, I'll give you that, but still just a game. As long as the safety protocols are fully engaged, I don't see that there is anything to worry about. Like you said, no need to be serious all the time!" he slugged Tom in the arm enthusiastically. "Let's go."

Tom watched apprehensively as Chakotay bounded into his shuttle. He had a bad feeling about this, but he was under the Captain's orders, so he climbed into the second shuttle and prepared their flight plan. Then he hailed Chakotay. "Paris to Chakotay."

"All set Paris?"

"Almost. Just one thing before we start: You don't want my piloting tips? Fine! That's your loss," Paris told him, "but promise me you'll maintain the comm. link throughout the flight, okay?"

"So you can distract me the whole way?" Chakotay chuckled. "Can't imagine why wouldn't I want that!" He was beginning to have fun after all, despite the fact that this new course looked like an almost impossible challenge. He was just glad this was only the holodeck and there was no chance of anyone being hurt.

They took their shuttles out into open space and Paris sent Chakotay the co-ordinates for their racecourse through the plasma storms and iron meteor showers. Still a little nervous, Paris could not resist also telling Chakotay some of his strategies for navigating the plasma storms over the comm. link before they began. The Commander hardly seemed to be listening though. He was itching to get started. The computer sounded a count down, and the two shuttles leap toward the plasma storms neck and neck.

Paris quickly overtook Chakotay as soon as they hit the plasma storms, but he was surprised to notice the Commander gaining on him as he navigated the first meteor shower. He noticed phaser shots behind him and realised that instead of evading the meteors, Chatotay was _blasting_ them from his path.

Chakotay had decided to work to his strengths. If his piloting skills were no match for Paris's, his targeting skills were. As Chakotay blasted the iron meteors out of his path, the shrapnel exploded onto the view screen in front of him, and he had to put his shields up to maximum to avoid damage to his systems. But he was gaining on Paris now, he realised with glee.

"Hey! What's going on Chakotay? What did those rocks ever do to you, huh?" Paris's voice came over the comm. Paris was right. In the real world, Chakotay would never employ such a destructive strategy through unknown space just to gain a little bit more speed, but this was hardly the real world. It was a game. One he wanted to win.

"What does it look like, Paris? Better watch out! I'm right behind you now."

He was indeed. He saw one of the meteor fragments he had blasted career towards Paris's shuttle, knocking him off course. "Oops," Chakotay flinched, "Sorry, Paris."

"Hey! Is that fair play?" Paris complained, although he quickly appeared to regain control and sped away towards the next plasma cloud.

Chakotay didn't see Paris's shuttle after that. He was assaulted by another blast of meteors. Firing all phasers, shields on maximum, he accelerated through the blast, as sparks and iron debris shot out into space in all directions. He was ahead of Paris now, and heading out into open space.

As he flew, Chakotay flexed his right hand. It was a bit painful. He realised it must be from earlier when he had slammed his fist at that shuttle door. He hadn't noticed the pain in his anger. He'd felt betrayed that Paris had let him win. He imagined the cocky pilot relating to Harry how he'd pulled the wool over the Commander's eyes. It made him mad to think of it. He looked down at his hand now and noticed the dried blood across his fingers. That was strange, since they had still been in the holo-program at the time. Safety protocols should have prevented any injuries.

"Computer," he called out, "what is the status of the safety protocols?"

"Unable to ascertain." The computer's calm voice replied uhelpfully.

Chakotay frowned. "Computer, restore full safety protocols."

"Unable to comply."

"Paris, what's up with the safety protocols?" There was no reply.

"Damn you Paris, come in!" he called out. He suddenly realised he had not heard from the pilot since he had disappeared into the second round of plasma storms. Chakotay panicked. If the safety protocols were down, anything could have happened to him! What was this crazy program Paris had constructed? Another surge of plasma buffeted the shields and his shuttle jolted forward. Chakotay grabbed the console. Suddenly he wasn't having so much fun anymore.

"Computer, end program!" he cried.

"Unable to comply."

"Shit!" Chakotay swore. Was the holo-program malfunctioning? It was possible. But he knew Paris was almost as brilliant at holo-programming as he was at flying. He felt himself getting angry again, but he had to try to stay calm and concentrate. "Computer, exactly how can this program be terminated?" he asked.

"This program can only be terminated on completion of the flight plan, _or_ after a hail from outside the holodeck, _or_ when a player's life signs destabilize."

"Shit!" Chakotay slammed his fist onto the console angrily causing the shuttle to rock turbulently, and his hand to throb. "Shit!" he repeated. This was one of the rules of the game – a rule that Paris had failed to inform him of. "A game? This is more than a game!" he raged out loud. "So this is what Paris calls a challenge, huh? No wonder he was reluctant to show me this program! Violating the safety protocols, not informing me of all the conditions of the game. Showing no respect for Starfleet regulations! At least I know he's still alive or I'd be able to terminate the program. Wait 'til I get my hands on him! I'll wring the life out of him. That'll end this god damn game!" Apart from that, the surest way to end the program was to make it over the finish line, so that's what he would do. He accelerated to full thrust and sped into the last of the plasma storms.

A gruelling ten minutes later Chakotay passed the finish line coordinates. His heart was pumping, he could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead - he hadn't felt so fired up in a long time - or so furious. It was liberating – he felt alive!

"Computer, end program!" he announced triumphantly.

"Ending StarFleet training simulation," the computer announced. This was the message all official training programs ended with. Chakotay guessed Paris hadn't created this program from scratch after all – he must have built it up around one of the official training simulations, and forgot to remove that end message that gave it away. Still, Chakotay was relieved when the surroundings disappeared and he found himself standing in the empty holodeck.

Empty, that is, but for the tall figure of Tom Paris standing nonchalantly on the opposite side of the room, one arm leaning against the holodeck wall. "Congratulations," he drawled breathlessly, glancing sideways at Chakotay. "You won. But I'll hardly call it fair and square Commander, the way you were blasting those iron fragments all over the place! You took out half my systems, you know."

Chakotay had not known.

"Do you know how difficult it is to get though a plasma storm with virtually no shields?" Paris continued speaking in that lazy offhand way that irritated the Commander so much, still leaning on the wall, making no attempt to come over to where Chakotay stood, or even face him directly. "But, I was getting there," the pilot insisted. "I would have made it out, in a couple more minutes, if you'd had the decency to let me finish the race."

"The decency?" At that Chakotay lost it. He roared in fury and strode over to Paris, shoving him hard against the wall.

"Hey!" The pilot was taken aback, and was slow to defend himself.

"I hadn't heard from you!" Chakotay shoved him again, harder. "You never told me about the safety protocols! Or that you modified official StarFleet training programs! You never told me the only way to end the program was…" It was only then that Chakotay noticed the blood streaming down the other side of Paris's face. He _had_ been hurt during the simulation! But Chakotay was not feeling very sympathetic - quite the opposite. It was the pilot's own fault anyway. "Or rather the _lack_ of safety protocols!" Chakotay corrected. "I should have realised," he spat. "No wonder your program feels so god damn realistic!" he shoved Paris even harder against the wall and watched with satisfaction as the pilot doubled over, grimacing in pain.

When Chakotay took his hands off him, Paris dropped to his knees breathing in short hard gasps, scarlet drops of blood spattering the white floor. "Yeah, I can see… you're really concerned… about my safety, Commander!" he retorted between sharp breaths.

"I could get you in a lot of trouble for this," Chakotay threatened with clenched teeth.

"In trouble… with the _Captain_?" Paris asked, looking up suddenly, his blue eyes intense.

"That's right."

Paris started choking or maybe laughing. It was hard to tell. "Oh man! Well, maybe… it was worth it. You would never have participated… if I'd told you everything straight out."

"I sure as hell wouldn't have!" Chakotay bellowed. Worth it? How did Paris think it was worth it? Chakotay imagined him relating the story to his friends. It made him mad. "Who knows about this program?" he demanded. "Who else have you shown it to? Harry? B'Elanna? Who?"

"No one," Paris scoffed. "Are you kidding? It's against protocol! Who could I share it with?"

"You expect me to believe you've shown this to no one but me?"

"It's true." Paris glanced up at the Commander. "I swear."

Chakotay calmed down and realised the pilot was telling the truth. "Then what in the galaxy made you risk showing it to me?"

"Crazy, huh?" Paris wiped his hand across his face, leving a sear of blood and sweat. "I guess I wanted a challenge, and I thought you'd be a worthy adversary. Seems I was right," he pulled himself up on one knee.

Chakotay scrutinised the pilot as he leaned against the wall, battered and bleeding but still defiant. "Adversary being the key word, I take it?" Chakotay asked, not nearly as angry as he had been mere moments ago. He was beginning to feel guilty about assaulting Tom Paris, despite the provocation. Why did he let the younger man get to him like that?

"Here," Chakotay offered his hand, pulling Paris to his feet. "I'm sorry about…"

"Yeah, I probably deserved it," Paris dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand, and allowed the Commander to help him up.

"You know I really should inform the Captain about this program…"

"Do whatever you think is best," Paris shrugged.

"Okay," Chakotay agreed, wondering whether he planned to do such a thing. He almost felt like saying, 'I won't tell if you won't,' but thought better of it. "You should get to sickbay," he said instead. The pilot looked wobbly on his feet, and Chakotay reached out to steady him.

"Yeah," Paris agreed. "I will as soon as I think up some kind of explanation for this," he gestured at his injuries.

"Console explosion," Chakotay suggested, "during repair work?"

"I like it," Paris said, steadying himself against the wall.

"I'll walk you to sickbay," Chakotay suggested, offering him support.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Paris declined the offer, holding up his hand. He pulled away and strode towards the exit. He turned back just before stepping though the door. "Hey Chakotay, on the chance that you decide not to tell the Captain about this: same time next week, I'll be here," he smirked. "If you're interested." Then he disappeared through the door.

Janeway had collapsed on the couch in laughter. "Brilliance Tom! Absolute brilliance!"

"You think it's funny?" Tom was a little annoyed. "Believe me my ribs didn't find it amusing at the time," Tom rubbed his side at the painful memory. "He totally took me by surprise. I think Chakotay hurt me worse than my holo-program did!"

"I admire your dedication to the task, Tom," Janeway tried to keep a straight face.

"Yeah, well, I guess it's all over now though."

"How do you mean?" she asked pointedly. Was Tom thinking of backing out of their agreement?

"I'm sure I went too far. Chakotay's going to tell you, and then I guess you'll have to confiscate Flight Plan."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Janeway told him. "Although he is pretty loyal to me," she admitted. "I hope he shows up next time though. I'm already looking forward to the next instalment," the Captain admitted gleefully.

Tom frowned. It irritated him that Janeway seemed to be getting so much pleasure out of this, at his and Chakotay's expense. He shifted in his seat before speaking, wondering if it was wise to say what he was about to say. "Captain, even if he does, which I doubt it, do I _have_ to report back to you about _everything_ that happens on the holodeck?"

Janeway sat up. "What do you mean, Paris? Of course I want you to. We're in this together. After all you're only doing this because I told you to!"

"True," Tom stood up again. "I'm doing this because you want Chakotay to work on his piloting skills. But I still don't see why you need to hear about everything that happens. Why do you care so much what he says to me, and what I say to him? You said yourself that his piloting is improving. Isn't that enough? I feel like I should never have told you any of this. I didn't _want_ to!" he complained.

"And I never forced you to, Tom!" Janeway's voice softened. "Why are you talking like this? You want out, is that it?" she enquired in a sympathetic manner.

"If you'll _let_ me, yes!"

"Let you? Tom, I don't recall _forcing_ you to do _any_ of this." Janeway's voice turned cold.

"Oh come on Janeway, you're my _Captain_…"

"If I asked you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?" she taunted.

"You _know_ I would," Tom swore in seriousness as he sank back into his seat. "That's the problem."

A smile spread slowly across Janeway's face. "That's what I love about you, Tom," she patted his shoulder and leaned in close. "You're such an excellent liar."

"I'm not lying anymore! I hate lying! Besides, I can never lie to you," Paris insisted.

Janeway grinned as though his argument only proved her point. "Let's not quarrel Tom," she patted her hand on his knee.

Tom tolerated her touch, but spoke coldly. "Captain, Mind if I ask, for a little heads up on what you're planning to do when Commander Chakotay informs you of my breaches of protocol on the holodeck?"

"Well now, I suppose I could tell him the truth," she glanced wickedly in Tom's direction. "If you're so adverse to lies."

"Don't you dare! He'd never forgive me!" Paris objected loudly.

"Would you rather I sent you to the brig? Deprived you of holodeck privileges? And deleted your Flight Plan program?"

Tom gaped. "Seriously? Those are my options?"

"Believe me, I don't like them anymore than you do, but if you think I'm bluffing…"

Tom shook his head. He knew her better than that.

"Well, if you don't like those options," she shrugged, "I guess you'll have to find a way to convince Chakotay it's worth his while to keep secret."

"I can't believe those are the options you're giving me!" Paris said faintly, letting his head fall back against the couch in despair. She always did this to him. She always played him. And somehow he kept coming back for more.

At that moment a call came through Tom's comm. badge. "Chakotay to Paris," the Commander's voice was heard.

"Paris here," he answered the call, annoyed that Janeway was listening with interest.

"I'd like to talk to you in my quarters, Paris. Think you can meet me in ten minutes?"

Janeway was nodding.

"I'm not sure, Commander. I'm kind of in the middle of something," Tom said.

Janeway frowned in disapproval.

"May I ask what this is about, Commander?" Tom requested.

"I think you know what this is about. Will you be there? If not, we can make it another time."

"I'll be there," Tom replied in resignation and ended the call.

"Well," Tom turned to Janeway, "I'm guessing Chakotay's decided to tell me that he's decided to tell you about Flight Plan. Why don't you just escort me to the brig right now?"

"Don't be so defeatist," Janeway told him. "Well, I better let you get going. I've enjoyed catching up with you Lieutenant. Keep me posted," she reminded, leading him to the door. "I want to hear everything the Commander tells you."

"Yes, ma'am," Tom promised with feigned sarcasm.


	5. Chapter 5

As Chakotay sipped herbal tea in his quarters while waiting for Paris to arrive, he tried to sort out in his head what he planned to say. Since that crazy holographic adventure with Tom Paris he'd been doing a lot of thinking.

He did not understand was why Paris had let him in on his secret 'Flight Plan' program. They had never been the best of friends. They hadn't exactly got on well together even in the Maquis, but there had been a certain amount of mutual respect. He'd respected Paris's nearly flawless piloting skills and Paris had respected his daring attack strategies. Aboard Voyager they had managed to work alongside each other relatively amicably. Unfortunately, it could damage their precarious relationship when he informed the Captain of this 'Flight Plan' program, unless he played this right. Perhaps Chakotay could convince Tom to shut down the program voluntarily? He hoped so, and yet it would be a shame. Chakotay hated to admit it, but he had began to feel that Paris was right: he'd been taking things, and taking himself, too seriously of late. The other thing he had had to admit to himself was that he had, despite everything, had a lot of fun that afternoon on the holodeck. More fun than he'd had in a long while. 'Flight Plan' was compelling. But that program Paris had created broke too many Starfleet rules for him to let this matter slide.

Where was Paris? It had been over ten minutes now. Chakotay hoped they would be able to negotiate this matter in an open friendly manner, and sort something out, without involving the Captain. His door chimed. "Come in," he announced calmly, turning to face a surprisingly agitated Tom Paris.

He was about to offer the lieutenant a seat and a drink but Paris held up a hand. "I know what you're going to say, so don't," he whispered urgently.

Chakotay opened his mouth, "How can you…?"

"You wanna talk about 'Flight Plan'? Well I don't!" Paris insisted. "There's nothing to say." So much for Chakotay's hopes of an open discussion.

"Tom, are you okay?" Chakotay wondered what had become of the pilot's devil-may-care attitude from the holodeck.

"I'm sorry Commander, I can't stay. It's late and I've got an early shift tomorrow."

"Tom," Chakotay spoke at last. "We need to sort this out and I'd appreciate a little…"

"Tell the Captain what ever you want," Paris interrupted. "I don't care."

"Is that right?" Chakotay asked. The pilot's anxiety belied his words. "Sit down, Tom," he commanded.

"Don't pull rank on me over this!" Paris got angry.

"I'm sorry, Tom." Chakotay apologised. "You've put me in a difficult position. I don't know what to do."

"Do whatever you think is best." Tom advised. "Just remember, I don't want to _talk_ about it with you. I just want to _fly _with you. Am I dismissed?"

"Dismissed," Chakotay conceded and watched the pilot lope out the door. So much for talking things through.

He sat down with a sigh, and found his thoughts taking a different path. Supposing he didn't tell Janeway? Should he take Paris up on his offer tomorrow? Paris was right. It was good to have a challenge. And for Chakotay, doing anything alongside the cocky pilot was a challenge. Thee was always the chance of him saying something and jeopardising their relationship, but maybe there was an equal chance of improving their relationship. Assuming no one found out, of course. Chakotay finished his tea and decided to sleep on it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chakotay had been waiting for Paris outside the holodeck for a good 15 minutes. It was not like Paris to be late for what had quickly become their weekly challenge. He had been looking forward to this all week. His flying skills were really improving and occasionally he even found himself enjoying Paris's company. He was glad he had decided not to inform the Captain about 'Flight Plan', he only wished he could open it himself, but only Paris knew the access code.

"Computer," he said impatiently. "Locate Lieutenant Paris."

"Lieutenant Paris is not on board."

"I though the away mission had returned. Computer, is Ensign Kim on board?"

"Affirmative."

"Mr Tuvok?"

"Affirmative."

The other members of the away mission were all on board.

"Janeway to Chakotay." A call came in. "Report to the bridge."

"On my way." He strode briskly to the turbolift.

"Ah Chakotay, there you are!" Janeway called as the turbolift deposited him on the bridge.

"Where's Paris?" Chakotay asked hurrying to his place.

"That's what we all want to know," the Captain filled him in. "He disappeared from the planet surface while harvesting supplies. We've scanned the area and found several transporter stations hidden in the undergrowth. Our best guess is that Tom unknowingly stepped into one of these."

"Like a rabbit stepping into a trap?" Chakotay asked.

"An excellent analogy," Tuvok agreed.

"So where's Paris now?"

"We have managed to recover the co-ordinates." Janeway recited them.

"He was beamed three hundred million kilometres away? That's some advanced technology!"

"Indeed. And worth investigating," Tuvok said.

"Our first priority is to rescue our abducted crewmember," Janeway pointed out.

"Why do you think he's been taken?" Chakotay asked.

"No idea. But let's find out as soon as we can. Baytart set the co-ordinates, full impulse!"

As they got closer to their destination, their path became more difficult. The plasma clouds became denser, and Baytart slowed to half, then quarter impulse. Chakotay was becoming impatient. "Do we have any information about who set these traps, or why?" he asked Tuvok.

"We can but theorise." Tuvok responded. "All we know is that the transporter technology is notably advanced."

"Anything could be happening to Paris right now," Chakotay imagined. "He could be being held prisoner, or tortured. That's assuming he's still alive."

"Let's not get carried away," Janeway advised. "All we can do is get to these co-ordinates as soon as we possibly can, and hope nothing untoward happens to him in the meantime."

"Exactly," Chakotay stood up and approached Baytart. "Can't you pick up the speed a little Ensign?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm trying. These plasma clouds are tricky."

Chakotay surveyed the viewscreen. "Why don't you keep the impulse engines firing, and use secondary thrusters to manoeuvre around the storms?"

Baytart laughed. "Sounds like something Paris would know how to do, but they don't teach that at the academy!"

"I'm familiar with the technique," Chakotay admitted.

"Commander?" Janeway turned to him, an inquisitive look in her eyes. "Would you care to take the helm? Show us how it's done."

Baytart stepped aside.

"I hope you don't mind," Chakotay said.

"Not a bit. If it means we can find out where Paris is sooner."

Chakotay took the helm and fired up the engines. He took a deep breath before plunging Voyager into the swirling clouds of plasma, using the technique Tom had taught him to avoid the densely coiled plasma storms, whilst maintaining speed. This was the first time he had flown this way outside of the holodeck.

Chakotay could not see the smile that spread across Janeway's face. She was impressed. Tom Paris had been evasive these last few months when she's tried to take him aside and ask about 'Flight Plan'. This was the first hard evidence that Chakotay had indeed been using the unauthorised training program. His piloting skill had improved enormously. "We're almost there already," she grinned.

As they approached the co-ordinates, the plasma clouds suddenly cleared. In the middle of the clearing hung some kind of space station, orbiting slowly.

"Who'd put a space station in the middle of such a dense plasma field?" Baytart asked.

"Someone who didn't want visitors," Chakotay said.

"We must remember," Tuvok pointed out, "that whoever built this station has the technology to transport great distances. The plasma would stop only less advanced passer-bys from discovering the station."

"Such as ourselves," Janeway pointed out.

"That's right," Chakotay agreed with apprehension. "We would never have found this place if it wasn't for Paris's abduction. We need to be careful."

"Scan the station," Janeway commanded. "Are they aware of our presence? Do they have weapons?"

"I cannot detect any weapons, or life signs," Tuvok replied, "The station appears deserted, but I fear something is interfering with the sensors. I'm making adjustments. I am now picking up several weak life signs. There is still some kind of interference. We will not be able to transport to or from the station."

"We should keep a low profile," Chakotay advised. "I'm going to put the ship in orbit around the station at a safe distance."

"Good thinking Commander." Janeway nodded. "But we do need to get a closer look. I want to find Paris as soon as possible. If we can't detect anything from here, then we're going to have to send a shuttle to do some covert exploring. Chakotay," she turned to him, "I want you on the mission. Mr Kim, accompany the Commander. Try to keep a low profile, stay out of trouble, but whatever it takes find Tom Paris, and bring him back to Voyager. Those are your orders!" She leaned into Chakotay, "Don't fail me," she said quietly.

"I won't, I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

Chakotay and Harry Kim set off in a shuttle towards the space station. "This place is creepy," Harry shivered. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"I hope your wrong, Harry, for Tom's sake." Chakotay said, but he also had that feeling. They flew swiftly through the last plasma clouds into the clearing and reached the station without incidence and managed to find an empty docking bay where they landed apparently undetected. They got out and started to move through the outer corridors of the station. Everything seemed massive and sterile. The aliens who build this place must be at least 3 meters tall Chakotay thought. "I feel like I'm in a huge hospital and I'm two years old," was the way Harry put it. His voice rang out into the empty cavernous corridor.

They continued along, tricorders out, and phasers ready, until they came to a series of rooms with massive windows. Inside, they could see large white benches strewn with what could be medical instruments, and along the walls, many large glass vials and chambers, filled with different fluids and specimen samples. Some contained still beating organs.

"Chakotay to Voyager," Chakotay pressed his comm. badge.

"What have you found, Commander?" the Captain's voice asked.

"We're in the outer section of the station. We can see inside. It appears to be some kind of medical research laboratory."

"Have you found Tom yet?" she sounded impatient.

"We have to find a way to get into the interior. I haven't found any doors. Maybe these aliens simply beam directly inside."

"I'm afraid you don't have that option," the Captain told him. "We can't get a lock on you."

"We may have to break in."

"Do whatever you have to do."

Harry Kim called out to Chakotay. He had discovered an opening. It led into what was the equivalent of a jefferies tube system. It was large enough for them to walk upright.

"Chakotay to Voyager," Chakotay tested the comm. link unsuccessfully. "Looks like we're on our own now," he told Harry grimly.

Through the tubes they managed to break into one of the research labs. Hearing noises, they hid behind on of the benches as two large alien figures came into the room. They had pasty yellow skin. Their legs were about the height of human legs, but their bodies and arms were extremely tall. This explained why the doorways were so tall and the benches so wide, and yet the height of the benches was normal. Chakotay and Harry could not understand what the aliens said in low voices. Maybe the translators were not working. The aliens had brought in several unconscious humanoid life forms, and laid them on the benches, then left the room.

"This is creepy." Harry repeated his earlier statement. "I feel like a lab rat escaped from its cage."

"That description may be a little too accurate for my liking," Chakotay agreed. They crept out from their corner and scanned the two bodies with their tricorders. "Are you getting a reading?" Chakotay asked.

"I'm getting some kind of a reading, but I'm not sure what it means. I'm not detecting any life signs."

"Neither am I." Chakotay was worried. The bodies looked undamaged, but pale and lifeless.

"I wonder what's happened to them?" Harry Kim said aloud.

"Or what's going to happen next," Chakotay said, remembering the beating organs in jars.

Harry gave him a quick glance.

Chakotay had noticed the benches on the other side of the room, covered in white sheets. He moved quickly to the closest bench and pulled back the sheet with a gasp.

"What is it?" Harry ran to his side. "Oh God!"

It was another body. It had the same lifeless appearance, but was far from undamaged. The body had been sliced open, and several organs had been pulled out.

"I think this is a dissection room, Harry."

"Let's get out of here as soon as we can," Harry was horrified.

"First we better check the rest of these benches," Chakotay pointed out.

"You think Tom could be here?" Harry was shocked at the thought. "He can't be! He has to still be alive!"

"We better check," Chakotay insisted, and they started to make their way around the room as quickly as they could. Chakotay pulled back two more sheets and found the bodies of two more humanoid species. He noticed they all had the same pale appearance. At that moment Harry cried out wordlessly.

"What is it, Harry?" Chakotay rushed to his side.

"You were right. He's here," Harry's voice was scarcely audible and he looked slightly green as he turned away from the bench.

Chakotay prepared himself and pulled back the sheet. He felt his heart sink terribly. There lay the body of Tom Paris. Still, silent, skin almost translucent, his eyes closed as if in sleep, his lashes resting on a deathly pale cheek. Chakotay bowed his head and closed his own eyes momentarily. For that moment time seemed to come to a standstill. Steeling himself, he reopened his eyes and pulled the sheet back further revealing the pilot's mutilated body. His body had been sliced down the middle from his neck all the way down his abdomen. It did not look like any organs had been removed, but his right arm and hand had been dissected and lay open to the bone. The fluid that seeped out of his body was not normal blood, but a strange translucent liquid. Chakotay felt sick and could hear Harry retching in the background. Despite his best flying though the plasma, despite all those hours of practice with Tom in 'Flight Plan', they had come too late. Chakokay had been unable to save him. Chakotay felt a well of anger growing inside him. "Harry, come here," he barked. He grabbed the white sheets and again wrapped them around Tom's limp form. "We'll get you back to Voyager Tom," he said to the pilot's vacant face. "We'll get you home. I promise." It was all he could do.

Harry Kim was in a pretty bad state of shock, but they managed to carry Tom's body through back out the corridor and back to the shuttle. Finally Chakotay lay the pilot's still form down in the back of the shuttle.

"Chakotay to Voyager," Chakotay tapped his comm. badge.

There was no response. "Voyager's orbit means they are on the other side of the station at the moment," Harry explained.

"Then I take full responsibility for this decision," Chakotay could scarcely contain his anger now.

"What decision?" Harry asked.

"I'm going to destroy this place," Chakotay swore grimly. "Get ready Harry, we're going to fire everything we have. And then get the hell out of here!"

Back on Voyager, the Captain and the rest of the bridge crew waited anxiously. "Captain!" Tuvok said suddenly. "I'm picking up a shock wave from the station. There has been an explosion!"

"On screen!" Janeway barked. "Where's our shuttle?"

At that moment the shuttle burst into view, heading toward Voyager, full speed.

"Janeway to away team. Do you read me?"

"Send a med team to the shuttle bay!" Chakotay's voice was grim as he made it to Voyager and docked the shuttle in record time.

"That explosion was caused by our own shuttle's weapons," Tuvok informed the Captain.

"I told the Commander to do what he had to do," Janeway reminded him. "I'm sure he had good reason to use them."

"No doubt," Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "However while the space station appears to have suffered little damage, the shock wave is beginning to destabilise the plasma field. We had best leave this area of space as quickly as possible."

"Baytart?" Janeway turned to the officer at the helm.

"Chakotay was the one who got us here," he pointed out. "He better get us out."

"Janeway to Chakotay," she called. "We need you on the bridge!"

When the Commander arrived on the bridge again, it was plain to see that he was in a state.

"Can you get us out of here, Commander?" Janeway requested.

He said nothing, but strode to the viewscreen. "Tuvok, how many photon torpedoes do we have?"

"Commander," Janeway touched his arm. "We have Paris back. We don't want to start a war."

He pulled away. "How many photon torpedoes do we have?" he repeated.

"Six photon torpedoes," Tuvok informed him.

"Fire them at the station," Chakotay said.

Janeway held up her hand. "If we do, we'll never get out of here. The plasma storms are already destabilising. I'm sorry Chakotay, whatever you discovered down there, we're going to have to leave it. We can't destroy the station. We don't have the weapons and we don't have the time. Take the helm Commander. Get us out of here alive."

Angrily Chakotay did as he was told.

"Brace positions," Janeway warned the crew. "We're in for a rough ride."

Chakotay sent the Voyager hurtling through the plasma field at a break-neck speed, using secondary thrusters to spin the ship clear of the worst patches of super heated plasma. With Tom gone, he was now the only crewmember with the piloting skills to accomplish this kind of flight. And yet if only he could have flown them here a little faster, as fast as Tom could have, Tom would still be alive now. By the time they were out in open space, he was breathing hard through clenched teeth and his eyes were stinging.

"Well done, Commander" Janeway congratulated. He felt her hand on his shoulder. "Let's talk in my ready room," she said quietly. "Tuvok, you have the bridge."

The Commander, tired, angry and upset, followed Janeway into her ready room.

"That was some brilliant flying Chakotay," she said again. "I hope you realise that."

"Just not quite brilliant enough. So it hardly matters," he said bitterly.

"You got us out alive," Janeway told him.

"But what about Paris? Has B'Elanna been told that he's gone?" Chakotay asked wretchedly. He sat and put his head in his hands.

"She was aware that he had disappeared, yes, and now she's been told he's back. You don't need to worry." Janeway placed a hand on his shoulder. "Chakotay, I'm relieving you of duty. You need to calm down, get some rest."

"Doctor to Captain Janeway," a message came over the comm. system.

"What is it Doctor?"

"I'll like to see you in sickbay as soon as possible. I want to fill you in on Paris's condition."

"On my way," Janeway announced.

Chakotay rose too. "Let me come with you," he said.

Janeway hesitated. "Alright, let's go."

Paris lay on the biobed as motionless as before. The incisions in his body had been taped up, but not regenerated. The Doctor was running a medical tricorder over his form and scrutinising his computer display.

"Ah, Captain! Allow me to fill you in. The science is intriguing."

"Spare me," Chakotay shuddered at the hologram's enthusiasm.  
The Doctor continued. "This fluid," he held up a vial, "which has been pumped into Tom's body, is a preservation or suspension medium. It prevents deterioration of tissues, but unfortunately it is also preventing regeneration. I have slowly begun blood transfusion, which will allow regeneration, but we must proceed carefully. The last thing I want is to re-animate our patient, only to lose him again."

"Wait a minute," Chakotay looked up, incredulous. "Regeneration? Reanimate? You mean… Paris is alive?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." The Doctor nodded. "He has been put into a state of suspended animation."

"And you can bring him out of it?"

"I believe so. He'll be back to his annoying self in no time."

Chakotay put his hands to his head looked up to the ceiling, taking a long breath. He felt he could cry with relief. "He's alive," he breathed, turning to Janeway. "He's alive."

Janeway placed her hand on his shoulder. "Thanks to you," she reminded him.


End file.
